The Exposed Roots Untouched by Frost

It never ceases to bring a sense of wonder when I am sent a photograph of a pebble.  I find myself imagining the travels of this stone; once it falls upon the source of water…I envision its journey. For me, this symbolic gesture of mixing the two elements makes me feel whole. The trauma of losing my daughter, the sole person who knew me and every corner of my mind has been like lying on a feather cloud; little by little I am slipping through. Try as I might to clutch at something- anything, my fingers lose grasp. Yet with The Heart Pebble Movement, it is a tangible thing that I can hold on to. It allows me to feel the smoothness of the pebble or the jagged slivers on a stone. Closing my eyes, the sound of the splash into the water revolves around and I inhale the simplicity it brings; awakening my fractured soul.

A pebble, once imprisoned is freed at last by the flash of a camera that leaves behind in its circle of life ripples, a story to be shared. For once the drop is in motion; set into whatever liquid was chosen for its release, then and only then can the pebble begin to live its adventures.

I marvel as this paradox as I am held in the clutches of one single, tragic day and strive to find grace amongst the sorrow. My grief at times has been dismissed; the inflammation of loss cannot be described when a child dies. I know…because I have desperately tried.

Some find comfort in my movement, because it allows the person who is participating, to also release any hurt. As if the mere collision of both water and pebble is a projection of all they want to liberate themselves from.

The snapshots I post are from those who feel a connection to my daughter; they wanted to awaken in them something that expresses the golden heart that Shayla encompassed. Her eyes were the doorways into the sheer joy distributed to those who came in contact with her. My daughter’s laugh came from her belly; a roaring noise, mixed with a chime full of giggles, announced her presence in any room. In the short time on this earth, she loved to leave more than footprints. By sharing her harmony and telling stories that made a difference, it gave this young 21 year old a purpose.

One of the other passions in Shayla’s life was volunteering. She did not see it as doing a good deed, rather a way to penetrate the darkness with kindness. The essence of her inner beauty saw her connect to the young and old, those needful, in pain and frail souls. The people in society who had been lost in the cracks and were being pulled down by the weeds. Although Shayla wanted to dance as a profession and had taken years of lessons, her destiny would remain with those who felt the most rejected. As her mother, the influence I had on my daughter’s life would see her to a path that now I wish had been sidetracked.  However, just as a rock is a solid mass, so were Shayla’s dreams rock-hard and nothing could change the outcome.

Meanwhile, the one unyielding thing that remains for me is her collection of pebbles, stones, gems and crystals. She has a heart shaped box, sprayed gold and containing some of her cherished pieces.  I plan on sharing other unique places where my daughter’s pebbles are or have been found. It is my hope that others will see the glimmers of light in a cause close to my own heart.

The girls in the photographs that I have names for are Lexi and Jesse. Whenever possible, I will give credit and acknowledgement to those who submit a picture and a brief story of where a pebble was placed. 

 “The least Movement is of importance to all nature. The entire ocean is affected by a pebble.”   ~ Blaise Pascal